


Moving Forward (At Your Side)

by randomwriter57



Series: makoharu week 2016 [6]
Category: Free!
Genre: Gen, M/M, Tokyo (City), University, yay more self-projection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 18:25:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8112697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomwriter57/pseuds/randomwriter57
Summary: You’re leaving all this behind. And for what?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [MakoHaru Week 2016](http://), Day Six: Season Three.

As much as Haru knows he needs to leave Iwatobi, the day he moves is a tough one. He can barely watch as the faces of his friends and the seaside town disappear into motion, gone in the blink of an eye. His mind swells with thought.

_You’re leaving all this behind. And for what?_

Freedom. What a strange concept: that leaving his home might bring him the freedom he’s always desired. He’s never felt particularly trapped in Iwatobi, but now that he knows what kind of things are in the wider world, he knows he’s never experiences true freedom.

You’re not going to see these friends again for a while.

But he’ll see them soon. They have plans to meet up, to bury a time capsule. It’s not as though he’ll never see his friends again.

_But you’ll miss seeing them so often, won’t you?_

To that, he has no answer.

He doesn’t cry. He’s sad to leave, but he knows he has to. He knows he can always come back. There’s no way he wouldn’t.

Besides, he isn’t leaving everything behind. He has Makoto. Even though Makoto isn’t here right now, since he moved up earlier, he’ll still be with him from now on.

Somehow, he feels empty. He watches the world pass him by and knows he’ll need to keep up the pace from now on. Life is not going to be the same slow, steady process it was in Iwatobi. He’s moving on to a new, exciting adventure. As life changes, so will he.

So why doesn’t he feel excited?

The hours pass slowly, and all at once. It feels like hours and seconds before he reaches Tokyo, bustling with energy, the heart of Japan. Even in the quieter suburbs, people are everywhere. It’s nerve-wracking. He bets Makoto felt excited, seeing so much life around him. It makes Haru want to close the door on it.

Finally, he reaches his new apartment. The moving vans and his parents have already been here, so when he walks in, it’s to his life, contained in cardboard boxes. For a city apartment, it’s spacious. Even the tub is a good size, though nowhere near as nice as his one at home.

Home. This is his home now.

Right?

His parents, waiting for him in the apartment, greet him with warm hugs and smiles. Instead of moving away from his family, he has moved closer to them. It’s unorthodox, but it suits his parents just fine. His mother in particular looks more cheerful than she has in a long time, her eyes glowing with happiness.

They stay together for a while. Whilst they wait for the takeout they ordered to arrive, they begin to unpack, filling this unfamiliar place with familiar objects. Hours pass, and the room is transformed. It’s almost as though he’s back at home.

_But this is your home._

In the evening, his parents wave him goodbye, promising to visit soon to see how he’s getting on. He tells them he’ll visit them, knowing he’ll forget to.

And then he’s alone.

The happy exterior he’d kept up when facing his parents drops, and he feels cold again. Turning his back on the door, he surveys his apartment.

_This is your home._

So why doesn’t it feel like it?

Shaking his head, he enters the bathroom. Turns on the tap.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s soaking in the water, his worries pushed to the back of his mind. For now, he takes pleasure in the feeling of the water, supporting him and warming his cold body. The familiar feeling soothes him.

But still, he thinks whilst staring at the ceiling through a sheen of water, this isn’t the same.

He gets out of the bath. Leaves his hair to dry on its own, dripping on the towel around his neck. He sits on the edge of his bed, flinching at the unfamiliar squeak. He looks at his room.

Is this really home?

_Yes, it is._

But it doesn’t feel like it.

Haru knows better than to think too much about it. Now that he’s here, there’s nothing he can do. He has to get used to living in this unfamiliar environment. Or else he’ll never experience that freedom.

Surrounded by these familiar things, he feels like he’s in a foreign land. Seeing his possessions in different positions, some still in boxes, others decorating the room in a way he’s not used to, it’s odd. That doesn’t belong there, he thinks, looking at the calendar above his bed, rather than beside the desk.

_That’s where it belongs now._

He can’t get used to it.

Haru stands up. Crossing to one of the boxes, he pulls out (with some difficulty) a magazine filled with pictures of water. He sits down at his desk. The new chair drops a little with the weight. He opens the magazine.

Usually, looking at these pictures, it soothes him. And to an extent, it still does. Looking at the water always makes him feel calmer. But today, he can’t ignore the numbness in his chest.

Time passes. He closes the magazine.

What is he doing here?

_You live here._

How can he live in a place where he doesn’t feel like he’s living?

The doorbell rings.

Lifting his head, he wonders who it could be. Why someone would visit him even though he’s just moved in. Is it his parents? Or some overly-friendly neighbour?

Part of him wants to ignore it, but he forces himself to stand, to walk to the door. He opens it.

And he’s home.

Makoto smiles with gentle lips and warm eyes, his face alive at the sight of his friend, reunited once more. The way he speaks Haru’s name is familiar, the lilt of the intonation, the soft bump from consonant to vowel. His head tilts to the side, his hair moving across his face.

“Okaeri, Haru.”

For the first time today, his chest swells with emotion. Looking at Makoto, this one constant presence in his life, he finds himself smiling without inhibition. “Tadaima.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me at [randomactuallywrites-57](http://randomactuallywrites-57.tumblr.com) on tumblr | [](http://twitter.com/randomwriter57>@randomwriter57</a>%20on%20twitter!)


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